


A Yellowed Newspaper Cutting

by red_day_dawning



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, Romance, Slash, snarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-29
Updated: 2011-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_day_dawning/pseuds/red_day_dawning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><i>The very first sight of bright, bright eyes; a messy-haired boy with broken glasses sitting opposite a red-haired lad as the Scottish countryside flew past.  </i><br/>Hermione tries to explain...<br/>Warning: character death<br/>Written for LJ and IJ's snarry100 prompt: Order of Merlin.<br/>JKR <i>et al</i> own the HP characters and settings; no profit is made here and no copyright infringement intended.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Yellowed Newspaper Cutting

**Author's Note:**

> _The very first sight of bright, bright eyes; a messy-haired boy with broken glasses sitting opposite a red-haired lad as the Scottish countryside flew past._  
>  Hermione tries to explain...  
> Warning: character death  
> Written for LJ and IJ's snarry100 prompt: Order of Merlin.  
> JKR _et al_ own the HP characters and settings; no profit is made here and no copyright infringement intended.

Hermione took a deep breath to delay her reply. How could she answer these questions? What could she possibly say to this sweet, bright, curious child?  
A yellowed newspaper cutting; the image caught in black-and-white could have been engraved in her mind. Harry, beaming as he pinned his newly received Order of Merlin onto Snape’s lapel, calling out “This belongs to Severus Snape too – Voldemort could not have been defeated without him!” An audience loudly cheering for the magnanimous young hero (although perhaps not for his choice of recipient), and the stricken faces of disgruntled Ministry officials, unable to intervene.

 

As though that single memory unloosed a flood of reminiscence, collages of images rushed through Hermione’s mind. A flung wand momentarily suspended in the air, caught with easy, effortless grace by a young man with messy hair.  
A pale man in dark robes bleeding to death on a dusty floor.  
Two men kissing with such passion and intensity that watching them took her breath away.  
A solitary mourner, standing unblinking and grim in front of a pale gravestone. And less than a year later, another gravestone beside the first, as though the death of one man slowly killed the other.

 

Hearth burning fragrant apple-wood, a cottage filled with books and sunlight.  
Piercing shards of memory.  
A door flung open as a tall man in dark robes swept into a classroom, menace swirling with flair.  
The very first sight of bright, bright eyes; a messy-haired boy with broken glasses sitting opposite a red-haired lad as the Scottish countryside flew past.

“Why did they receive the medals? They saved us all, saved the whole world, Muggle and magic alike. And they were friends of mine. One was my best friend, a boy with bright eyes and messy hair, the other …”


End file.
